


The Unlikely Bond

by Narnienoo2003



Category: Legend (2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narnienoo2003/pseuds/Narnienoo2003
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giuliana Bruno is used to being disrespected for being a woman. Being the daughter of mafioso Angelo Bruno certainly had it perks however. She was in London, with a secret. Enter Ronald Kray, a man with a similar (but not so secret) secret as Giuliana, and you have a very interesting mix. Their unlikely bond leads both to places they didn't expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reluctant Acquaintances

**Author's Note:**

> COMMENTS WELCOME :) Thanks for reading!

 

PART ONE- Reluctant Acquaintances

 

It was a fairly warm day for London, I was sure, but being a Vegas girl and all, it still felt fuckin’ freezing to me. I was used to the desert, and at least 70 degrees everyday...even on fuckin’ Christmas. I even packed two different bikinis for the pool...like that was gonna happen. I got up from the leather couch in the “living room” section of my suite and foraged through my suitcase for one of the wool pullovers I had brought with me. I pushed my head and arms through it’s soft (and yet somehow itchy) folds then walked over to the floor to ceiling window. With no Mother to correct me, I leaned my arm against the cool glass  and took in the view of the new city I had just been brought to.

Four floors down, my father Angelo and the rest of Mayor Lanskey’s thugs were meeting with the Kray twins. Apparently they were London’s most notorious gangsters...I had never heard of them. The meeting had gone on for an hour or so now, and I was starting to get impatient. Angelo had promised me we’d go see the sites. Not that I was holding my breath, but if he didn’t come through those double doors in the next half hour, I was breaking outta this joint and hitting London myself.

I plopped back down on the sofa and flipped through the TIME magazine that was sitting on the coffee table. They were all pages of American actors and singers boozing together and having a good time. Frank and the Rat Pack, Peggy Lee, and other such jokers. I had just left that world in Vegas...why the hell was it following me?

It was then I heard male voices coming from down the hall outside my door- sounded like the meeting had gone well. I dropped the magazine back onto the table, checked my hair and teeth and walked over to the drinks cart just as my father and the thugs walked into the room.

“Where’s my Giuliana?” My father asked, looking around the room.

“I’m right here, Pops,” I announced, then asked him what he would like to drink. He brushed off my question with an “eh” and told me to sit down. I obliged, sitting in an arm chair and flopping one leg over the other.

“Giuliana! You gotta wear pants?! We’re in London for Christ sake!”

“What? They don’t wear pants in London?” I held up my drink coolly. “Stop talkin’ about me and start talkin’ about the Kray twins!”

“Oy, boss…” Gino interrupted with a sigh before my father could respond. “You got your hands full with that one!”

Angelo leaned over and smacked Gino upside the head. “You talkin’ ‘bout my daughter that way? Shame on you! Talk a walk...the both of yu’s!”

Gino stood up reluctantly and walked out, Vinny in tow. Angelo waited for them to close the door, they turned back to me.

“He’s right you know, Giuliana...this ain’t the States where you can do whatever you want.”

I ignored his scoldings and took a sip of whiskey. No man would be the boss of me. My father took my silence as a sign of my understanding and continued.

“Okay, so...the Krays.God DAMN are they cold, Giuliana!”

“Oh yeah…?”

“Oh yeah. Especially the big one...Ronnie. That boy’s got some big costana's on him, I tell you that!”

“Why, what he say?”

“Well, since you’s my darling daughter I won’t dirty your ears with the subject of the conversation…” 

“Yeah,  _ darling _ is the word people think of when they see me….” I snorted, switching my legs to cross the opposite way. “Go on…”

“Anyways he turns to me and says ‘I prefer boys’!” My father threw his hands in the air, flat out amazed. I myself nearly spat my whiskey back into the glass...but it was damn good so I kept it in.

“He said that, Pops?!” I laughed loudly after swallowing. “What did you say back?!”

“The only thing I could: Good for you!” My father exclaimed. “What else was I gonna say?”

I let my head roll back with wide mouthed laughter. 

“Alright, alright, it weren’t that funny…” My father stated blankly. I brought my gaze back to match his. It was that funny, he just didn’t know why.

“And the other one? What’s he like?”

“Reggie? Complete opposite.” He got up to fix himself a drink. After a swig of whiskey, and he stood with one hand in his pocket, looking between myself, the drink and the view. “You know Giuliana...I’d let you marry Reginald Kray right on the spot.”

“Excuse me?” I sat up slowly and set my glass down. My father had very rarely treated me like an equal. I was hoping that this trip would make that come to fruition, but so far it wasn’t looking so good. Didn’t he know I was my own person and not his property? I opened my mouth to say something.

“Now Giuliana before you go all crazy on me, let me explain.” He poured himself another whiskey and sat back down. “No one’s gettin’ married, okay? But if he asked for you, he’d get you. No questions asked.”

“Good to feel respected,” I sneered standing up to pour myself another glass, but cooled my approach quickly. I decided not to fight him on this issue and let him win this round...I wanted to actually leave this hotel room today. “He was that great?”

“Oh, Giuliana, he was gorgeous! Well dressed, smart, didn’t talk too much…”

“Hmm sounds like you should marry him…” I teased and sat beside my father, hoping to warm him up to my objective of seeing London...today. He “hmphed” in response, finding my tease slightly amusing. “So do I get to meet these big costana-ed, gorgeous men or just hear about them?”

My father drained his glass slowly. I could tell he was thinking about my question...he always used the “slow drink” to decide how he felt about something. 

“I tell you what, Giules,” He set his glass down on the table and cleared his throat. “You can come with the boys and me tomorra evening. The Krays got a club they want us to see. You can meet them then. Sound good?”

“Sounds good!” I smiled and kissed his pockmarked cheek. “You’re my favorite father, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah...sure.” He stood up, not at all fooled. “Come on chicky, I promised you London.”

 

xoxoxoxoxo

 

The jet lag and tired legs should have thrust me into a deep sleep that night after walking around London, but it didn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about these English gangsters that seemed so bold and secure in themselves. I knew a lot of men, okay? I had five brothers, 10 uncles, and countless male cousins. All in the mafia if they knew what was good for them. I was no stranger to violence, corruption and dishonesty. But lying to yourself? That’s a whole other can of worms. My sister Cynthia, God rest her soul, couldn’t handle it. She killed herself at 17 years old. My mother did the same shortly after, leaving me to be the only woman in the house...which I never wanted to be in the first place.

I’ll be honest with you...I missed my girlfriend, Sheila. Yeah, that’s right...now you’re getting it. Girlfriend. I had always liked girls. I liked boys too, don’t get me wrong, but girls were special. Ever since before I could remember! It wasn’t something I chose for myself, alright? I didn’t wake up one day and say “You know what? Fuck you, world. I’m gonna be a bisexual from now on!” I think I was just born this way... honest to God, I was.

I wanted to meet Ron and talk about it, if he’d let me that is. I needed more homosexual friends. I was too cowardly to admit my sexuality to anyone except the girl I was in a relationship with...and I only had her due to luck. She called me on it (it was very uncomfortable). I seen her walk into the room and immediately couldn’t stop staring. But she didn’t mind, God bless her. No, she actually pulled down her top so I could see more of her breasts.

 

_ God _ I missed those breasts of hers...so full and round and soft. She wore the pants in the relationship, that was for sure, and God help me, I didn’t care. For once, I honestly didn’t.

 

Meeting Ron Kray was important. I needed it. I didn’t know why exactly, but I did. Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough, honest to God.

 

xoxoxoxoxo

 

I woke up to Vinny incessantly knocking on my door. I slowly opened my eyes, groaning in response that I was up. I checked the clock: 5pm. I sat up with a start. “God damn you, jet lag!”I groaned  into my pillow.

Vinny continued knocking, his fat knuckles no doubt getting redder and redder.

“Giuliana? You up?” He inquired through the door. 

“Fuck! Yes! I’m up!” I got out of bed and flung open the door. “Whadya want?!”

Vinny and Gino (who had remained quiet during this whole period) stepped back in surprise. Vinny’s fist was still in mid-knock.

“Well?” I asked, fists on my hips. “What do you want?”

Gino cleared his throat suggestively. I looked down and realized I had slept in only my bra and panties.

“What? Never seen a girl in her undergarments before?” I cringed internally.  _ God, _ I was embarrassed.

“Get dressed.” Vinny commanded shakily. “We leave for the club in an hour.”

“Hmph.” I closed the door in their faces, mortified. I think I pulled it off though.

 

We pulled up to Esmeralda’s Barn at six sharp. There was already a line to get in the door, and it didn’t open for another hour.

“Impressive,” Angelo commented, his lips pouted and pulled up to his nose in surprised satisfaction. His sentiments matched my own, but I stayed quiet. 

“You look very beautiful, Giuliana,” he smiled, every syllable dripping with his thick Bronxian drawl of an accent.

“Thanks.”

“Ready?”

I nodded my “yes” just as a very large, bald man opened the door of our car and stepped aside so my father could step out.  As soon as he did, my father was greeted by a devilishly handsome blonde with a sharp nose and full lips. They exchanged a handshake and my father expressed his pleasure with the waiting line. They chatted for a moment while I remained in the car.

“You don’t mind that I brought my daughter, Giuliana? She was very excited to see the club and London in general…”

“Wot? Nah, not at all!” The bald man opened the door again for the blond.

“You must be  ‘er then, eh?” A boyish smile flashed its way into the car. “Giuliana?How ya doin’ love? Reggie Kray.”

I took his hand and he pulled me up to my feet, all the while leading me with his dazzling eyes. I suddenly found myself  resenting the fact I had worn pumps on an empty stomach. His hand was not much larger than my own, but it was strong enough that it left warmth in my fingers when he released its hold.  I drew the collar of my overcoat closer together. “Nice to meet you, Reggie.” I smiled as sweetly as possible in the cold wind. We all entered the club hurriedly, wanting to get out of the cold.

Our coats were checked in and our drinks order taken. I watched Reggie explain different aspects of the architecture of the club to my father. As we got to our table, Reggie offered me a seat. Which I of course took with a glittering smile.

_ Damn, _ I thought to myself.  _ Angelo was right! He is gorgeous! _

The men all seated themselves and got to talking about business and what a great deal they had struck. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn’t help but wonder where the other one was...Ronnie. Would I know him when I saw him? I knew it was stupid to obsess over someone I’d never met, but I needed to meet him.

“Ah, there you are Ron!” Reggie announced, breaking my train of thought. I turned my gaze in the direction of Reggie’s voice in the hopes of seeing his twin, and my  _ God _ did I see him. A heavy, thick brow protruded over his eyes in a constant frown, and his eyes were shielded by horn-rimmed glasses. His glasses sat somewhat crooked on his formerly broken nose, and his lower jaw jutted out and seemed to be somewhat suspended and open...like a fish.

Ronald Kray was nowhere near as dashing as his brother, which was difficult to understand since they were practically identical. Besides the obviously larger build (he had a paunch and much thicker shoulders), I realized it was the eyes that were the main difference between them.

Reggie’s sparkled and were present...playful. Ronnie’s were glazed over, dark and still.

My father stood to shake Ron’s hand, and introduced me. I stood and shook his hand, heart all aflutter. Ron mumbled his apologies and sat down beside his brother to eat with us. Conversation ensued, and I listened closely, hoping to learn all I could about the seedy business that allowed me to walk the streets with almost unchallenged power. 

Halfway through the evening’s conversations, a well groomed, heart shape faced young man came to call Ron away.

“Is it important, Teddy?” Ronnie grumbled slowly and thoughtfully...like a child trying to sound smarter than he actually was. “As you can see, I am entertaining.”

“‘Fraid so Ronnie, very important.” Teddy confirmed with a solemn nod.

“Right,” Ron set down his cutlery and took down the last of his champagne before wiping the corners of his mouth with surprising delicacy.

“Somefin’ I should be aware of?” Reggie inquired with a casual eyebrow raised.

“You stay wiv our guests, Reg…” Ron rose slowly and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “We’ll fetch you if we need yuh.”

They walked away to tend to their business, leaving Reggie with a somewhat uncomfortable look on his face.  _ He knows something _ . I brushed the thought aside and continue listening. It did not take long however until I had to excuse myself to the restroom. I obtained directions from the more handsome Kray and went to take care of personal matters of my own.

As I approached the restroom door, Teddy exited the men’s room with Ronnie close behind. The timing was less than ideal as I caught Ron’s large bejeweled hand caress and then smack Teddy’s right ass cheek, drawing a childish giggle from Teddy.

“Miss Bruno,” Ron drawled in greeting, glaring at me as he pushed Teddy away.

“Your cuff link has popped,” I blushed before pushing my way into the women’s bathroom. I immediately ran some cold water and splashed it on my face before using the toilet. These men were  _ wild. _ Sex in the men’s room? On a  _ Saturday _ , the busiest day of the week?! They had guts, I’d give ‘em that! 

And could I have been more obvious about my embarrassment? I think not.

I sat there for a moment, gathering my nerves. I was gonna have to go back out there eventually. Angelo would send a goon in sooner or later otherwise. I pulled the chain and let my dress length drop to back to the tiled floor. I checked my appearance in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed back out to the table, trying to convince myself that it was all in my head and that I was just tired. 

As I approached the table, Ron immediately rose and held out a chair for me, which I cautiously descended upon as I reached for my water. As I sipped Ron shoved me into place, causing my body to jolt the whole table, and as a result drinks slopped over rims onto the table cloth.

“Watch it, Ron!” Reggie scolded as I coughed gracelessly into my glass. A waiter hurriedly brought over a few towels to mop up any major spills. I glared at the horn-rimmed eyes as he sat down across the table from me. His actions were completely intentional and had been performed completely without shame.

“You must excuse my bruva,” Reggie apologized. “He’s ‘ad a hard week wiv the trial and all, innit Ronnie?”

All eyes fell upon the thick-bodied man, wondering exactly how he intended to save face after such a blatantly obvious attack. Ron cleared his throat.

“Urrr…. yes. Miss Giuliana, I am very sowwy for this incident…” He stood up from his seat and walked over to my side. I watched him nervously, ready to ward off an attack. Instead he offered me his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I looked at him in surprise, completely gobsmacked. Staring into the large hand in front of me, my mind raced through my options. 

“Don’t leave the man standing there, child!” My father called through the fog of thoughts. “Go dance!” He encouraged.

I reluctantly took Ron’s hand, refusing to break eye contact as I rose. I refused to show fear. He lead me to the dance floor and proceeded to foxtrot.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” He jabbed. I didn’t respond, not wanting to shed an approving light on his rudeness. 

“Oh, tough girl are we?” He jeered as he took me into a dip. The dip was so low my curls started to pool on the ground and my breath got caught in my throat. Leaning in closer, he whispered intimately. “If you make light of my choices again you Yank cunt, I will personally slice you limb from limb and have you disposed of in the Thames.” My body was starting to shake from holding the deep pose. I met his fierce glare once more, resolve clearer than ever.

“I’m not afraid of you, Ronald Kray.”

His brow furrowed deeply as he brought me back up. Everyone else on the floor was looking at us...frozen.

“Bravo, Mr. Kray! Bravo!” My father clapped, approaching us to cut in...he was clearly worried about me. 

“Big fuckin’ mistake, Miss Bruno…” Ron forced through his teeth, seething.

“Just know you’re not the only one with certain...tastes.” I smiled fakely as my father reached us.

“You’re quite a dancer, Mr. Kray…” Angelo chuckled tersely. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Mmmm.” Ron grunted and dropped my hands, allowing my father to take them and lead me into a waltz. 

“You alright, kid?” He whispered.

I watched Ron and Teddy leave the club, my father’s question echoing in my ears.

“Yeah, yeah!” I smiled tiredly up at him. “Just fine.”

 

And so my strange relationship between myself and Ronald Kray had officially begun.


	2. Welcome to London, Guiles.

I couldn’t believe how relieved I was to be back on US soil. London was great, don’t get me wrong, but I needed to see Sheila again. I missed the lights of the Strip, too. There were no darker places than casinos, but the lights gave us an ironic privacy. I had my Sheila back, and that was enough for me right now.   
“So, tell me all about it…” She interrogated as I unpacked my things. It had been a couple of days since I returned, so the unpacking was truly overdue.  
“It was nice...very nice.” I smiled, a little slower to speak than intended.  
“Uh oh!” Sheila teased in a coquettish tone. “Did you find a handsome cockney gangster that I’m gonna have to compete with now?”  
“What?” I spun around, surprised by the suggestion. “No!”  
She stood on my bed and starting bouncing on it. I swear sometimes she acted like she was 5, not 25.   
“Was ‘e dashin’?” She whined in an almost perfect cockney accent. “Did ‘e knock yuh off yuh feet, love?”  
I smiled as I shoved my clothes into a drawer and turned to grab another armful of clothing. If she had met Ronnie Kray, she wouldn’t be laughing, that was for sure. In fact, she’d probably be begging me to never go back to London ever again.  
“Nope, no dashing cockney gits got my heart, don’t worry…” I placed more clothing in the drawer. “Although, if Reggie Kray were to make an offer…”  
“Oooh!” Sheila bounced onto her butt, intrigued. “Reggie Kray the gangster?”  
“Well, I believe he prefers club owner,” I rolled my eyes.  
“Pfft!”  
“But yes, that Reggie Kray.”  
She flopped onto her stomach and grabbed my waist, pulling me closer to her. She pressed her cheek against my hip.  
“Babe…” I pulled away slightly. “If I don’t do this now, it’ll never get done.”   
“I want to go out!” She pouted, holding her grip tight.   
“You’ll be going alone,” I laughed. “I’m close to fainting. I’m so tired.”  
Sheila released her grip around my waist and instead climbed off the bed and yanked the clothes out of my hands.   
“Lie down, Giuli, I’ll do it.”  
“You’re gonna put my clothes away?” I raised an eyebrow.   
“Sure!” She smiled and proceeded to shove the clothes back into the suitcase, slam the top down, and set it on the ground.  
“Sheila…!” I groaned.  
“I’ll do it!” She insisted, pushing me backwards onto the bed. “Once I’ve had a taste of those lovely Italian lips I’ve missed so much.”  
A smile crept across my face. My Sheila was so beautiful...perfect for me, really. She knew exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t. She climbed on top of me and pressed her lips against mine. My entire body jolted with electricity as I pushed my hands down her skirt and felt for her ass. It had been too long.

xoxoxoxo

I woke up the next morning with a start and a sense of urgency. I didn’t understand why, until I saw my father standing over our naked, intertwined bodies.   
“What, the FUCK is this, Giuliana?!” He seethed through crooked and greying teeth.  
“Pops, I--”  
“You what?” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of bed on to the floor. “What the fuck is this?”  
I was so angry and embarrassed, I had no words. Sheila woke up with a shriek, grabbing at the sheets to cover herself up.  
“What? We can all go around and fuck whoever we want now? Perfect! Come here, Sheila.” My father grabbed Sheila’s ankles and pulled her towards him. I flew at him from behind, pulling him away from her. My father threw an elbow behind him, and the joint made contact with my face with such force I felt as though I’d been hit with a hammer. I cried out in pain.  
“Giuliana!” Sheila screamed, jumping to my aid and shielding me with her naked body.  
“Get away from me!” Angelo hit her square in the jaw and pushed her unconscious body aside, leaving me to fend for myself. In a last ditch effort, I scrambled for the pistol under my mattress. I always had it loaded, just in case. My father watched me with a sadistic interest, like a cat watching a mouse try to escape before catching it in its jaws and snapping the mouse’s neck.  
I located the gun with fumbling fingers, cocked it under the mattress, and drew it out.  
“Stay...away….” I panted, the gun pointed at his head.  
His eyes flashed a look of surprise. He probably never dreamed that his own daughter would have the guts to point a gun at him, let alone shoot and possibly kill him.  
“Giuliana...” He smiled as he approached. I put my other hand on the gun to steady my grip.   
“What? You don’t think it’s loaded?” I shook. “I’ll do it, Pops! So help me God, I will!”  
Realizing I was deathly serious, he stopped and instead took a step back, hands up.  
“Okay, Gigi, alright…”  
“Don’t call me Gigi…” I hissed, motioning to the armchair in the corner. “Sit down.”  
He obeyed, shaking his head in disbelief. Sheila came out of her fainted state, and looked around.   
“Get over here, Sheila.” I commanded. “Put some clothes on.”  
My father watched me coolly from the chair.  
“I raised you right, kid! You gotta give me that…”  
“I’m not giving you shit.” I spat. I turned to see how Sheila was. “You okay?”  
She was visibly shaken but nodded bravely as she pulled on her skirt back on. “You?”  
“Yeah, fine.”   
My father watched us interact, face once again washed with disbelief.  
“How long has this been goin’ on, Gigi?”  
“I told you…”  
“I SAID ‘HOW LONG?’!” My father exploded from his chair. Barely aware of my actions, I squeezed the trigger on impulse. The shot rang in my ears, mingling with Sheila’s bloodcurdling scream. I opened my eyes, half of me hoping he was alive and the other half hoping he was dead or at least seriously injured.  
“Jesus Christ, kid…” My father winced in pain, his hands pressing on his thigh. “You shot me!”  
“Yeah!” I whispered, still in shock. “Yeah, I did.”  
Tears streaked my cheeks. “Sheila, call 911 and get an ambulance here right away!”  
“Giuli-”  
“DO IT!” I shouted.   
She rushed out of the room, no doubt surprised by my tone. I’d never shouted at her like that. Locking eyes with Angelo, I relaxed a little. I wiped away my drying tears, took a deep breath and stated:  
“I assume I can put this down and get dressed?”  
“You tell me kid,” he laughed weakly, trying to mask the pain. “You’re the boss now.”

xoxoxoxoxo

It was decided that I was to be rushed back to London immediately, and that my father’s wounds were the result of a drunken fight, not the more embarrassing, true reason that his bisexual daughter had shot him in the leg after he had walked in on her and her girlfriend, naked in bed.  
While I wasn’t crazy about the idea, it sure beat being stared at in the streets and the anxious dreams of recurring violence towards Sheila and myself. Telling her that I’d be moving to London indefinitely was gonna be fucking awful.

I decided to tell her the day before I left, because I couldn’t bear to see her miserable. It was selfish, because she had so little time to adjust to the fact that her girlfriend would be gone, and I knew it was. Because of that shitty decision, I blame myself completely for what happened next.   
“I don’t know, Giuli…” She was sobbing.  
“Don’t know what?” I breathed a short bated breath. I was emotionally numb, yet another quality that Sheila and I didn’t share.   
“I don’t know if I can love you from so far away…” Mascara was running down her face, which only highlighted the sadness of the situation. I looked at her, knowing what I had to do but not wanting to actually have to do it.   
Living in London, alone and without love? The very idea terrified me. It wasn’t that I had trouble making friends...I really didn’t. But I realized now that I was secretly hoping Sheila would want to move with me and start a life in London together.   
“Come with me,” I smiled weakly. “We can live in London together, you can sing at clubs, act on Broadway…”  
“Oh Gigi, get real!” She shouted, ripping her hands out of mine and walking towards the door. “We’re over! Isn’t it obvious? You’re leaving me, and I’m not coming with you!”  
I looked at her sadly, tears finally starting to pool in my eyes.  
“But I don’t want that!” I cried. “I want us! You, and me! In London!”  
“Yeah, well life’s just a slice of shit pie, isn’t it, Giuliana?” Her tears were gone; she’d transitioned to anger now. Each word was a knife pointed rammed right into my heart.  
“I guess this is goodbye, then?” I stood to embrace her one last time.  
“Yeah,” She sighed sadly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”  
“Okay,” I sniffed, slowly breathing in her scent. “I’m sorry.”  
She kissed my cheek, looked at me one last time, and walked out the door, leaving me to realize the gravity of the situation I now found myself in.

xoxoxoxoxo

I was greeted at the London airport by two greasy looking characters, Albie and McLean. I had met them both in passing last time I visited, but they seemed completely different from when we first met. I was certain it was the fact that I had been wearing the rose-tinted glasses of love last time, whereas now I was in a state of grey, sinking depression.  
Apart from a “Good day, Miss!” and “Can I help you with those?” when they first saw me, the journey to the East End was relatively quiet. Every now and again McLean would curse at a fellow driver on the road, his thick Scottish brogue making things more amusing to me. Albie seemed completely nonplussed as he rode in the passenger seat. I made a passing comment on how if they drove on the correct side of the road they’d have less problems, but neither found it all that amusing, so I decided instead to ask where they were taking me.  
“Italian place, to meet the Krays,” The Scot explained.   
“Li’le bit of ‘ome, eh miss?” Albie offered.  
Italian food. Great. Because I needed a reminder of home right now. I smiled at Albie nonetheless, not wanting to be rude.  
“You ever been to Italy, Miss Bruno?” McLean inquired.  
“Yeah, we go twice a year to visit my grandparents. They don’t wanna come to the States so we go there.” I explained.  
“What’s it like in America?” Albie asked.  
The question rendered me silent for a moment. I’d only known the Bronx and Las Vegas, so my impression was not really the best one to go off of.  
“Big, I guess...and just...different.”  
Albie grunted in response, giving off the impression that he hadn’t really been interested. Shortly after, we pulled up to a little restaurant front with the name “E. PELLICCI” in bold yet simple lettering across the top. As I climbed out of the car, I could smell the marinara sauce from the street. Maybe some spaghetti and meatballs to go wouldn’t be too bad.   
When we entered the restaurant, it became apparent to me that the place hadn’t been remodeled since the twenties. Lacquered wooden wall coverings were on every wall. The interior was fairly besides that. At the end of the restaurant seated in the second to last table were the Krays.   
Ron’s large lumbering body looked almost humorous as he worked on a plate of bacon, eggs, and beans. Reggie had his back against the wall and was reading a paper. Both looked up when we entered, but Reggie not surprisingly was the first one to speak.  
“Ah, Miss Giuliana!” He folded his newspaper, set it on the table and got up to greet me. “Welcome back to Lahndon!”  
“Thanks, Reggie…’ppreciate it.” I smiled.  
“Are you ‘ungry? Si’ down, si’ down! We’ll get ya somefin’!” He pulled out a seat.  
“Water’d be great. Thanks…” I sat down and nodded a greeting to Ron. He just stared at me, then continued shovelling food into his mouth. Reggie cleared his throat.  
“You must excuse my bruva, ‘e’s in a bit of a mood…”  
“I am not...in a mood, Reginald.” Ronnie looked up, clearly seething. “I am merely attempting to enjoy these lovely eggs.”  
“Alright mate, alright…” Reggie winked at me to signal all was good. “Do you mind if I call you Giules?” He asked. “Much easier than sayin’ Miss Bruno or Giuliana every single time.”  
“No, not at all.” I responded.   
My water arrived, and so did one Leslie Payne, a waife-like man with mousey blonde hair and an astoundingly large nose.  
“Right. Giules, dis ‘ere is Mr. Leslie Payne. You’re follow ‘im around and learn what ‘e does for us,”  
“Nice to meet you,” I smiled at him, starting to feel somewhat overwhelmed by my environment.  
“An-an-and you, Miss Bruno.” He stuttered, clutching onto his briefcase and snatching a glance at Ron, who clearly was not as friendly with him as Reggie. “I look forward to working with you.”

We sat at the restaurant for a good hour discussing what my role was to be here in London. It seemed as though it was pretty simple: I would assist Leslie in his fronting duties and negotiating tactics. If things got tense, it was apparently my job to step in and lend “a woman’s touch”...whatever that meant. No one mentioned how it was strange that I was here, so I assumed that they had been expecting my father to send someone over to his eyes and ears one sooner or later...why not his own daughter? It also seemed that I was perceived as a delicate yet surprisingly violent individual, though I was sure why. Just because I was the daughter of a mafioso didn’t mean I was tough…  
“Shame about your dad’s injury, Giules…” Reggie spoke, breaking my train of thought.  
“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” I started. “Unfortunate accident, for sure.”  
“What exactly happened…?” Ronnie drawled, speaking for the first time since his “I’m not in a mood” outcry.  
“He got shot in the leg,” I said calmly, holding Ronnie’s gaze.   
“Oh, that’s a shame, innit Ron?” Reggie commented.  
“That’s very interesting, Reg…” He mumbled deeply. “Very interesting.”  
I drained my glass, attempting to settle my slowly fraying nerves. I was tired now, my brain on overload and my heart already drained. I needed to sleep.   
“Not to be rude, gentlemen, but if I don’t get to a bed soon I’ll probably faint,” I half-joked. “Any chance of getting a ride to my new place?”  
“Course you can! You’ve been wonderful, love.” Reggie smiled and pulled out a set of keys. “The big one’s for the outside door, and the littler one’s for the actual flat...number 206. My lovely Frances and I are right across the hall from you in number 204, so if you need anyfing, knock and she’ll be ‘appy to help.”  
I took the keys and thanked him.  
Reggie called over Albie and had him drive me home. 

xoxoxoxoxo

As I unlocked the door to 206, I heard the door to 204 open slowly. I walked in despite my curiosity. I was more interested in finding my bedroom.  
“Hiya, Frances,” Albie called out, dropping my cases.  
“Hello, Albie,” A chirpy yet hesitant voice responded. It was a sweet voice, cautious yet child like. “Is that the American what come over to spy on Reg?”  
I turned around, my manners overruling my tiredness.   
“I’m Giuliana,” I smiled, extending my hand.   
“Frances Kray,” She smiled, switching her candy from one cheek to the other. “It’ll be nice to have another woman around!”  
“Same!” I replied through a yawn. “I’m so sorry, I’m exhausted.”  
“Oh! No problem!” Frances released her grip. “Bedroom’s the last door on your right. Let me know if you want any help moving in!” She sauntered over to her and Reggie’s apartment, smiled, and closed the door.  
“I’ll be going then, Miss…” Albie informed me. “Have a good night.”  
“You too, Albie. See yah.”  
I closed the door behind me and slowly hung up my coat, scarf and gloves. It felt amazing to be alone and quiet. A clock on the hallway bureau read 8:00pm. It was later than I realized...a complete relief. I was told if you could make it to the evening, you would adjust faster to the new timezone.

I trudged down the hall to the last room on the right and collapsed onto the bed. It felt a little springier than I was used to, but I didn’t care. I kicked off my shoes and climbed under the covers. Just as I had gotten comfortable, it dawned on me that I hadn’t locked the door.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I groaned, throwing off the covers and dragging myself to the front door. I flipped the lock and checked through the peephole out of habit to make sure the coast was clear.

“Fuck!” I whispered through caught breath. The sight I caught through the door was terrifying and completely unexpected.


	3. Bethnall Green and Mrs. Shea

I stepped back from the door for a second to breathe, rubbed my eyes, then looked back through the peephole, breath bated. It was Ronnie, glaring at my door. He was just staring at it. I couldn’t tell exactly, but I would guess that he was wondering whether or not to break down the door and seriously maim me. I heard he had been put away for grievous bodily harm, so locating my gun may have been a good choice to have made at that point. I didn’t know why, it was just a feeling.  
He took a long draw from his cigar then blew the smoke into the viewer.  
“You fink I don’t see you…?” He spoke menacingly. I didn’t respond, unsure of whether or not he was actually addressing me. “You fink you can just come in ‘ere and start calling the shots...as you Americans say?”  
He must have followed me and Albie here, I reckoned. How else would he get here so fast?  
“I see you…” He placed his left eye up to the glass, making our eyes less than three inches apart. I still couldn’t tell if he knew whether I was on the other side of the door, but I wasn’t going to say anything. To think I had been tired beyond reason not 3 minutes prior was almost laughable, as now I was more afraid (and as a result, more energized...probably from the adrenaline) than I had been in a long time.  
I toyed with the idea of swinging the door open and facing him, but I honest to God didn’t know what to say. Luckily I didn’t have to make that decision, as Ron seemed to get bored and eventually trudged up the stairs, muttering to himself about not trusting me, that Yanks were stupid, etc.  
I locked the door with a relieving click, and made my way back to bed. Now I really was gonna sleep well.

XXXXXXXXXX

I was awoken the next morning by a series of knocks on the door. My initial reaction was panic, thinking I was still in Las Vegas, and about to relive the horrible events that had occurred not one week prior. Luckily I came to after the second series of knocks, and was able to drag myself out of bed and get to the door. Frances was waiting on the other side, a tray of fruit, tea (we were in London after all) and toast.

“Morning!” She smiled as I opened the door. “Brought you breakfast!”  
“Thanks,” I murmured, closing the door behind her and following her into the kitchen.  
“I brought you tea, hope you don’t mind.”  
I smiled tiredly.  
“What time is it, Frances?”  
“Oh please, call me Frannie, it’s nicer.”  
I nodded.  
“It’s 8:30.” She chattered on, seemingly unaware of my jetlagged face. “Reggie wanted me to get you on a schedule as soon as possible.”  
“Oh God,” I groaned. “Am I working already?”  
“Nahhh, I’m taking you out and about for the next few days.” She winked impishly. “You don’t start until Monday.”  
“Okay, thanks...I appreciate that…and the tea.” I took a sip from the floral tea cup and tried to envision the caffeine infiltrating my blood cells and waking me out of my traveler’s fog.   
We ate in silence for a few minutes as Frannie allowed me to adjust and take in my surroundings. She had a nice feel about her, I noticed. Besides her pixie-like good looks and perfectly drawn on eyeliner wings, her dusky brown hair was beautifully chignoned and not going anywhere thanks to the miracle of hair spray.

“You’re a funny one, ain’t ya?” Frannie inquired, cocking her head to one side.  
“Funny lookin’, yeah…” I dribbled out robotically. “God, I probably look awful…” I wiped under my eyes. “I didn’t remove my makeup last night!”  
She chuckled (which I took as an affirmation to my former statement) and offered me the last piece of melon, which I took.   
“So what are we doin’ today then?”  
Frannie stood to clear the dishes.  
“Shoppin’, unpackin’, nothing too exciting. I’ll leave you to get washed and dressed, shall I?”  
I drained my tea and placed the cup on the tray, then rose to open the front door for her.  
“I’ll be back in a half hour, sound alright?”  
“Perfect, thanks Frannie.”

“‘Ello Francis!” Ronnie’s strangely mellifluous voice rang down the stairwell from the floor above. “Bit of brekkie for the Yank?”  
“Hi Ron, yeah…” She called back up, smiling as she realized he didn’t know I could hear him.   
I froze in the doorway. I could hear his bare feet slapping the stone steps as he made his way down to chat with his sister in law. I sighed, realizing I had already found myself in a quandary, and it was only 8:45 in the frickin’ morning. If I stayed, I’d have to talk to him, but if I closed the door, I might be perceived as rude. I signaled to Frannie.  
“I’m gonna..” I threw my thumb over my shoulder to indicate that I was gonna go get ready.   
Her face scrunched up and her head cocked in confusion.  
“What?”  
Deciding not to risk discovery I started slowly closing the door. I was almost home free when-  
“Ahhh, Giuliana! Good morning!”  
I dropped my head in defeat then opened the door slowly back again.   
“Ronald,” I murmured.  
“Well, well, well...someone had a bad night’s sleep.” Ron chuckled to himself. “You look like death, Giules…”  
“Thanks, Ron...I appreciate your kind words.” I steeled, my voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“Heh!” He honked. “I like you, Giuliana.”  
“Music to my ears,” I driveled to save face, but in truth I was feeling relieved. While I’m sure he could be a fantastic liar, something told me that he wasn’t being dishonest.  
“You’re funny, Giuliana, very funny…” Ron turned towards me and removed a hand from his pants pocket. Pointing at my nose, he asked: “Did you know? A woman with humor is twice as likely to be…” He stopped mid-sentence, a quizzical look on his face. I raised an eyebrow, humored by the awkward silence.  
“Successful in business?” I offered.  
“Yes, successful, but also...” Ronnie snapped out of his trance, nodding and smiling in my direction. “...homosexual.” He jutted his jaw back and forth for a moment, his eyes going foggy and distant. “ Isn’t that interesting…?”  
Bewildered, I looked at Frannie, who shrugged and pursed her lips, wisely deciding to remain silent. I was about to say something (the silence was getting way too uncomfortable) when Ronnie cut in.  
“Well! Can’t stand around here all day, can we?” He chirped loudly, causing me to jump in my skin. “I’m sure you girls have fings to do…”  
I snatched the opportunity to leave the scene.  
“Yup! See you soon, Frannie!” I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I leaned with my back against the door, a second wave of relief washing over me.   
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Ron’s voice hummed through the door. I smiled and shook my head. What a bunch of weirdos.

XXXXXXXXXX

The majority of our morning was spent walking around the East End and Bethnall Green, visiting the little shops and markets that littered the streets with brash accents and fresh product. Francis was clearly a chatty girl, and a little lonely.  
She talked most of the time, her strong cockney accent tripping me up from time to time. I found myself asking her a lot about the slang terms she threw around, which was a cultural experience, to say the least! Every was a rhyme in Cockney it seemed...a combination of two words to form another.  
At one point during a late lunch we were asked if we’d like a sip of Vera Lynn with our meals, to which Francis answered “yes” before I even knew what was happening. Once the server left, I asked her what the hell “Vera Lynn” was, and she laughed.  
“Vera Lynn!” She smiled. “Gin!”  
“But I’m don’t really like gin!”  
“Well, you will…”  
And that was that. No options for me, I guess...I was in London now...it was gin, tea, juice or water apparently.  
For the record, the gin was awful. Absolutely disgusting. I have no clue how the English drink that crap.

“Right, before we go back home, we have to pop by me mum’s,” Francis chirped apologetically.  
“Sure, what are we doing with your mom?”  
“She finks I’ve turned into a battlecruiser since marrying Reg, so I told her I would pop by for a quick cuppa Rosy Lee and introduce her to the yank what come round from the States.”  
“What the...You’re doing this on purpose now, aren’t you?”

She winked, placed a crisp pound note in the bill folder and we left for her mother’s home.

A ten minute walk later, we found ourselves walking down a long cobblestoned road, towered by blocks of three story townhomes. The breaks between the buildings were practically invisible, and I felt like I was walking down a dilapidated Brooklyn, NY. We stopped at a pink door about halfway down the street. 

Francis fumbled around in her bag for the keys, then unlocked the door and we entered.  
“Mum! We’re in!”  
“I’m in the kitchen, Francis!” A grating voice called from somewhere in the house.  
“Come on, Giules,” Francis voiced as she led us through the very tiny, very immaculate home to her mother’s equally tiny kitchen. Everything had it’s place in this home, and it made me feel a little on edge, to be honest. Then again, everything had to have it’s place, didn’t it? I reasoned. If it wasn’t in it’s place, the entire home would appear to be a mess!  
We came through the living room and then stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Her mother’s back was turned to us, but from what I could tell, the woman was as tightly wound as the cuckoo clock that was sounding off in the living room.  
“Mum? This is Giuliana Bruno, from America.”  
Her mother turned around slowly to meet me. She smiled and shook my hand intentionally and with one shake, then dropped my hand mid air and asked Francis if we were staying for tea. She wasn’t the friendliest of souls, I noted, and I struggled to comprehend how someone as kind and beautiful as Francis Kray could be a product of an ice queen like Mrs. Shea.  
Francis said we were, and then led me back into the living room to sit down.

“Did you grow up here, Frannie?”  
“I did,” She said stiffly. “Me and my bruva Frank were born here and had lived all our lives until I got married.”  
There was a definite change of tone in her voice, and I began to pick up on the fact that she was just as uncomfortable about being in her mother’s house as I was. She might have been lonely in her marriage to Reggie, but she was drained of life in the house of Shea.  
Tea with her mother was as boring and borderline unbearable as you would imagine it to be. The shining light was that when the cuckoo clock sang five times, Frannie jumped and announced that we were due at the club. This was news to me, but I wasn’t about to complain.

“Thanks for dropping in, dear…” Mrs Shea droned, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Giuliana, keep an eye on my baby girl for me, won’t you?”  
“Of course, Mrs. Shea.” I stood up and touched cheeks as she and Frannie had done. “Thanks for the tea.”

It was the first sentimental thing I had heard from Mrs. Shea in the whole two hours we had been visiting with her. The more I observed her, the I began to think that she actually wasn’t cold, just damaged. I’d seen it in my own mother before she passed. She would try and stunt her emotions in order to deal with things. I was certain that had she lived longer, my dear sweet mama would have been the exact same way.

We exited the house and were greeted by the cool early evening air. We walked back to the main road and hailed down a taxi, which took us back to our apartments.  
“I’m sorry my mum’s such an ice queen,” Frannie apologized as we rode. “She’s still not over the fact that I married a gangsta.”  
I smiled. “It’s okay, Frannie. My mom was the same.”  
Her eyes lit up, winged and watery globes of chocolate brown appreciation.  
“You’re a keeper, Giuliana Bruno...really.”  
I smiled back, knowing that I had been thinking the exact same thing all day.


End file.
